


Harry Gets Angry

by faewm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry with a backbone, Not for Snape lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faewm/pseuds/faewm
Summary: If Harry can stand up to his abusive relatives, why not stand up to Snape? Read as he snaps during his first potions class. Independent Harry, who protest his treatment and stands up for his rights.





	1. Harry Snaps

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 Harry Snaps  
> Thanks to my lovely beta, LadyLini, who did the first draft, for all her help in making these easier to read for you, my readers. And now I’d like to thank darrelldeam and alix33 for looking over the second draft. 
> 
> Remember this is fanfiction, so most things are not going to be canon. Like Harry’s and Hermione’s friendship, which I am starting early, or Snape being more of an asshole then he usually is. Please don’t tell me that my characters are OOC, I know that. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter that pleasure belongs to J.K. Rowling, and all the people who she gave permission to have it make her rich. I just play in her sandbox. 
> 
> *blah* are scenes taken from the book.

Harry Potter and his two new friends, Ron and Hermione, went into their first potions class. Harry had been looking forward to this class since he had read through the book. He was rather excited. He reckoned that since he had been cooking for a long time this was one class he couldn’t fail in. The three friends found seats in the middle of class and waited for the professor.

Professor Snape came into the classroom and *like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.”

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word — like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death— if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” said Harry.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer. “Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything.”*

Now Harry was annoyed. He did not pay for his schooling to be picked on by a professor. He turned away from his notes and caldron and looked directly into Snape’s eyes and said. “What is your problem? I know for a fact that that question isn’t in the first chapter of the potions’ book, nor is it in the second. I’d like to know why you’re asking me a question that no one but Hermione seems to know the answer to.” He glared at the dark-robed man.

Snape just looked down his nose at the boy who reminded him of his childhood nemesis. “You are just as arrogant as your father. You think you should have special privileges just because you are a Potter and the Boy Who Lived. Did you think you could get away from learning by your fame alone? Did you think you did not have to open a book? Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek,” he said and turned away.  

“You know as well as the entire British Wizarding World that my father died in 1981 when I was fifteen months old. How would I know what my father was like? And that is not the point. You’re a professor; you shouldn’t be calling us dunderheads. You shouldn’t be pointing out that I’m a celebrity. You shouldn’t be asking me questions that I wouldn’t know the answers too. What you _should_ be doing is teaching us potions. I, for one, think that, because it is our money paying your salary, you should get on with it,” Harry said angrily to the man’s back, making him turn, and feeling he had made his point, Harry turned himself back to his caldron. He picked up his quill ready to continue taking notes.

Snape glared angerly at the young boy, then returned to the front of the class and pointed to the blackboard. “You are going to be brewing the potion on the board. The ingredients you need you should have obtained with your school kit. The directions are in your books, as well. What are you waiting for? Get to work,” he snapped at the class.

They all jumped and books were opened to the correct page and the students started their potion. Ron grumbled at the lack of directions, and Harry nodded in agreement, getting even livider.

Snape lurked around the classroom, pointing out how well Malfoy had done on his potion and how the Gryffindors were messing theirs up. Then *Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. “Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. * Then he rounded on Harry and Ron. “You—Potter—why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? Two Points from Gryffindor for trying to look good.”

Now Harry was enraged, he slammed his knife down and turned to the irritating man. “I’m sorry, what? Neville is sitting behind me. How am I supposed to brew my potion _and_ watch Neville brew his? You know, I was looking forward to this class, but now I think I am going to go and talk to my Head of House and see why I am paying for such a crappy education.” The dark-haired boy took up his books and shoved them in his book bag, and then headed out the door, leaving his equipment behind. He had no intentions on returning.

The students looked on in wonder. The  Gryffindors were wondering how a teacher could get away with what was happening in this class. The Slytherins were glad the Boy Who Lived was making a fool of himself. They would stand up for Snape.

“If you leave this classroom, I will take twenty-five points from Gryffindor, and you will have detention with me for a week. You are just like your father,” Snape shouted to the retreating boy.

“And you are an arrogant bully that doesn’t seem to listen,” Harry stated over his shoulder as he left the room.

Because it was the last class of the day, Harry figured that Professor McGonagall would be done with her class soon. So, he waited outside the transfiguration classroom. When the class was done and the students had left the classroom, the upset boy headed in.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Potter? And why are you not in class?” Professor McGonagall peered over her glasses, giving Harry a stern look, like she knew he had been up to mischief.

Harry could not figure out why the professor was looking at him in such a way. She was looking at him like he had been getting into trouble all week, and she was expecting that he was the cause of the reason he was here now. “Professor, I would like to make a complaint. Snape…”

“Professor Snape,” she corrected, looking down her nose at the child. She knew he was going to be just like his father, not even the first week and he was already in trouble.

“…in my first class, asked me a question that I had no way of knowing the answer to.” Harry ignored her reprimand.

“And just how do you know it is not on the curriculum?” McGonagall asked.

“I know because I read the first two chapters of my potions book,” the messy-haired boy answered.  “And when I informed him that I did not know the answer, he belittled me in front of the whole class and took points off for cheek.”

“I am sure that you did something to deserve the lost points, Mr. Potter. Your father was very much the same. Professor Snape is not known for taking points away without just cause,” she said with a huff.

“Right,” Harry said a bit confused. “Anyway, then, without any preparation, set us to brewing a cure for boils. Neville melted his cauldron, which caused him to be covered in the potion he was brewing. He was hurt, and instead of asking if he was okay or treating him for his wounds, Snape berated him by calling him an idiot, and then blamed me, stating that I let it happen just to make myself look good, then took points away from Gryffindor. When I stated that I shouldn’t have to put up with such abuse and left the classroom, he took more points off and gave me detention,” he hurriedly finished, hoping that she would listen to him, though from the conversation so far, it was a dim wish.

Professor McGonagall continued to look over her glasses at Harry like she was disappointed in him. “What did you do to anger Professor Snape?” she asked, folding her hands and placing them on her desk. “Professor Snape has a hard class and has to be strict so that accidents do not happen. If Mr. Longbottom had done his work correctly, his cauldron would not have melted, and he would not have been hurt. You should not have left the classroom before the bell rang. So, you will just have to do the detention and take the loss of points. I am surprised that you did not take the class seriously. Your mother was quite well versed in potions.”

Harry looked at her in shock. He was really starting to regret coming to Hogwarts. Sure it was cool to learn magic and all, but having grown up with little to no personal possessions, he knew that money was something to be valued closely. He didn’t think of himself as too frugal, but he did know that money shouldn’t be wasted. And why were all the professors comparing him to his parents? While he did want to know more about them, these teachers were not telling him anything except that he fell short of their expectations.

“Um, is there a PTA or something? Maybe a school board that I can write to? Or maybe I could speak to the Headmaster?” Harry asked, hoping that he could solve this problem, since it seemed that the person he was supposed to come to for support wouldn’t be helping him. Right, your House is like your family. He was getting the impression that they were very like his… family.

“I do not know what a PTA is, and the Headmaster is far too busy to listen to the complaints of the students. There is a Board of Governors, but why would you write to them? It is not their job to listen to students. That is the job of the Head of Houses,” the shocked McGonagall asked, not seeing the problem. She just solved his little issue. How she wished he was more like his mother and less like his father. Lily would never cause this many problems.

“Thank you for your time, Professor,” Harry said as he turned and walked out of the classroom, not really believing what he was hearing. This is what he was paying for? He needed to write a letter, and then he needed to make a plan. He knew it probably wouldn’t work. If he were to go to the PTA in the Muggle World, they would defer him to his aunt, who was on the PTA, so that never worked. But his aunt wasn’t here now, so maybe if he got everyone to tell their parents... his mind reeled with ideas.

It was after dinner the next day that Harry got up, walked to the front and stood in front of the Head table. He turned and looked out to the students’ tables and yelled, “Can I have everyone’s attention, please!?”

Only a few of the students seemed to hear him, but they nudged their neighbors, and everyone’s attention was gradually turning toward the Head Table.

The Professors were curious about what the first year was up to. Snape was looking at him with distaste. He knew the boy was arrogant, and that impression got worse when the child didn’t show up for his detention. The Potion Professor stood and yelled at Harry, “Ten points from Gryffindor for disturbing dinner! You are just like your father, thinking that you can get away with breaking the rules just to get attention. Do not think you are getting away with not attending you detention.”

Harry looked at the Headmaster and his Head of House, waiting for one of them to interfere. He waited in vain.

They were looking on, but did nothing to deter Snape.

The preteen shook his head and turned back to the students. “Does anyone know a spell that will let everyone hear me?” he asked looking to the Ravenclaw table, since they were the closest and they were supposed to be the smarter House.

One of the seventh year Ravenclaws came up to the front and cast the _Sonorus_ spell on him. Then he went back to his seat and waited to see what the Boy Who Lived had to say.

“Thanks,” Harry said with a nod, making sure not to yell. “I have been here for one week, and I would like to say that I am very disappointed by the fact that my money is being spent on a faulty school. Here is a letter I have written to the Board of Governors’. If you are smart, you will have your parents or guardians write a letter as well.

“ _‘To Whom It May Concern:_

_I am a first year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I wish to tell you that, if this is the education I am paying for, I would like to withdraw and get a full refund. I will look to other schools. Perhaps, I will get the education I pay for._

_You are the Board of Governors of this school; it is your job to make sure that we are getting properly educated. We are not._

_You have a ghost teaching outdated history classes that very few pay attention to. Is he being paid? Because if he is, you are wasting my tuition. You have a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that stutters so badly that we can_ _’t understand him. You have a Potions professor that not only belittles the class in his opening speech, but doesn_ _’t teach them how to brew the potions he requests. He simply writes the directions on the board and tells us to sink or swim. And when one of his students_ does _sink, he puts the blame on another student instead of showing the student what they did wrong._

_When I took my complaints to my Head of House, I was told that it was the fault of the students for not listening. No investigation was made. No questions were asked. Nothing was said about the unfair treatment that the students received in class or the points that were deducted. When I asked to see the Headmaster I was informed that he was too busy for students._

_Because this was the first step in the chain of command at the_ _school, and I was shot down before I even started, I am writing to you._

_I also wanted to point out that in the opening speech of the Headmaster’s we were told there was something in this school that would kill us. I wish to be in a school that I can safely walk around and explore. I shouldn_ _’t, as a child, have to look out for my own safety in a place that I am going to be boarded in for almost ten months of the year._

_I will be telling all of the students that they should write to their parents as well and inform them that they are wasting their money and should also look elsewhere._

_Thank you for your time. You can send my refund to Gringotts._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter’_

I have already sent this letter to the Board and encourage you to do the same.” He tucked the copy back in his robes.

The students and professors looked at him in shock. The Boy Who Lived would really leave Hogwarts? Whispers started as the students talked about if they should too. They were in agreement that the standards of the classes had fallen. History and DADA was a joke, and they were verbally abused by the Potions Master.

The Headmaster stood up, and with that grandfatherly disappointed look, he addressed the boy standing in front of the table, “Harry, I am sorry but you cannot leave the school. I am your magical guardian and I forbid it.” He thought about silencing the boy, but then it might make him look bad in front of the students, and he couldn’t have that. So he waited to see what the child had to say, then he could make his rebuttal. The students were more easily swayed with gentle arguments than with harsh reprimands, Severus was a shining example of that.

Harry turned and gaped at the old man. “What is a magical guardian? And if you were any sort of good guardian, magical or otherwise, you would support me in getting a good education and not treat me like I am the one at fault here,” the messy-haired child said, completely flabbergasted. He had to wonder where had Dumbledore been all these years. The man just stated he was a guardian of some sort, and if he wanted to keep Harry at Hogwarts, what was his plan? He narrowed his eyes and looked at the man.

“Harry, Hogwarts is the premier school in all of Great Britain. You will not find a better education than you will here,” Dumbledore said, letting his voice carry through the entire hall so that the students would hear his opinion. Everyone knew that his words were like the Word of God, or so he believed.

“Then I will go back to the Muggle World and take my chances. I will not pay for a school that doesn’t listen to me, condones bullying by a professor and does not support the students,” the boy stated firmly and folded his arms in defiance.

“We do listen to you, my boy,” the Headmaster stated with those thrice-damn twinkling eyes.

Harry went on as if the old man hadn’t spoke, “What qualifications do your professors have? Out of the six classes I have, only three have shown they are qualified to teach. In the Muggle World, teachers have to go to school for years to get the qualifications to teach children, and they are not allowed to abuse their position. They are paid to _teach_. If Professor Snape has been teaching that way since he signed on, I have to wonder how many students have been hurt. If he were teaching in the Muggle World, he would not have lasted a single week. Well, perhaps in a University, but not in a primary. I am surprised that no one has complained about him before. And if they have, why has nothing been done about it? We are paying his salary. Why doesn’t anyone understand that?” he asked desperately, turning to the students, hoping they would hear what he was saying and start questioning what was going on in this school.

The murmuring started again.

“Professor Snape has my complete trust, Harry,” the twinkle-eyed Headmaster stated as if that should settle the boy’s problems.

“That doesn’t answer my question. I asked what his qualifications are.” Harry demanded vehemently, turning angrily back to the Head Table.

“Professor Snape is one of the youngest Potion Masters in centuries.”

“Well, that’s great. How does that qualify him to teach children? If I was to get on to the Quidditch team in my first year, making me one of the youngest players in centuries, would that qualify me to teach Quidditch? No. I would have to go through training in order to become a Quidditch coach. Just because someone is good at something, doesn’t mean they can teach it,” Harry stated firmly.

“You should respect your professors, young man,” the old man said sternly.

“Why? I stood up here to tell the students something, and he stood up and took points for something that is not against any rules and called me a defamatory name, yet you and my Head of House sat and did nothing.” Harry asked as the whole school looked on and listened. “If this is the treatment I’m going to get, why should I stay?”

The Muggle-born and -raised were realizing that Harry was correct. They had been so caught up in the wonders of the new world, which they had forgotten that their parents were paying for this. And not one of them disagreed on the fact that Snape was not a great professor. Even the Slytherins were secretly agreeing. If it were not for self-study, they also would not be doing well in that class. Snape might compliment them and degrade the rest, but that was not helping them to learn anything.

Many of the half-bloods and pure-bloods also knew that their parents were paying for this, but because their parents went to this school, they figured that this was pretty much as good as it got.

“Harry, my boy, let’s take this to my office. Let me cancel that spell. _Finite_ ,” the old man said as he pointed to the boy’s throat. Then much more quietly he stated. ** _“_** Now, Harry, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape, if you will follow me.” He raised voice and addressed the Great Hall, “Students, please return to your meals. If you are done, you may leave.” He turned and led the way to his office.

The other three followed, it was not comfortable, since the teachers were glaring at the student. This prickly silence was maintained until they reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster’s office. After the old man gave the password, they rode the winding stairs, and then they all filed in. The Headmaster took his seat behind his desk, the two professors moved to stand behind him and Harry sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Harry looked around the office. It was colorful and full of many moving trinkets. There were portraits of people staring down at him, they all looked old. He wondered who they were. Turning back to face the headmaster and professors, he waited to see what they had to say.

Dumbledore broke the silence first. “Harry, I am very disappointed in you. Why did you send a letter to the Board instead of coming to me first?” he asked, looking over his glasses and folding his hands over his beard.

“You should ask Professor McGonagall.” He waved his arm to the professor, whose lips all but disappeared.  “I went to her after my first potions class and was told that everything that had happened in that class was the students’ fault and that the Headmaster had no time to listen to students’ complaints. She did not ask any other kids that were in the class if what I said was true or not. The blame was automatically placed on Neville and me,” Harry stated, grumpily crossing his arms across his chest and thumping back into his seat.

He wasn’t going to be intimidated by this man or Snape. If he could stand up to his Uncle Vernon, he could stand up to these people. If there was one thing his childhood had taught him, it was to never give into bullies, no matter what form they took. 

“He is just like his father, always trying to get people in trouble with his pitiful excuses. He will never live up to his mother, and, though I loathe saying it, even his father was smarter than this little brat.” Snape sneered, looking down his long hook nose at Harry.

Harry waited. And waited. And for two minutes nothing was said. “This is why I wrote to the Board, and this is why I am looking to take my education elsewhere.” He waved his hand in the vile man’s direction. “This is why I told the students what I am doing. This man, who looks to be in his thirties, is belittling an eleven-year-old boy whom he has met _once_. Yet you two, who are above him in office, are sitting there and letting him do it. I want a way home. I will be withdrawing from this school. If you don’t put your students above all else, you are not doing your job,” Harry said, slouching back in his chair and pouting.

“I am afraid I cannot let you leave Hogwarts, Harry. There is no better school for you,” the old man reiterated, “and this is the safest place for you to be educated. As your magical guardian, I must insist that you remain here,” he said calmly.

“So my concerns mean nothing?” the boy asked, flabbergasted. “I want to ask, if I were any other student, would we be sitting here right now?” He didn’t think so, he was sure it was his unwarranted fame that was making problems. If he had been anyone else they would let him leave without issue. That and he was positive this old man had plans.

“I am not the magical guardian of any other student,” was the gentile answer.

“Right,” Harry scoffed, not believing him for a second. He leaned forward and tapped his finger on the desk. “I want to tell you right now, that if you force me to stay in this school, I will not go to class. I will dispute any house points removed from me. I will not attend any detention I do not earn. I will write to the Board weekly with progress reports. If I don’t get a response from them, I will find a way to get my story heard in the papers. I will encourage the students to do the same. I shouldn't be forced to stay where I don’t feel I am being treated properly.” His threats were very clear as he punctuated them with a tap.

The adults looked like they had been smacked. Who did this child think he was to make such threats? Boy Who Lived or not, they had never been spoken to in such a manner. Snape opened his mouth to take more point, but was talked over.

“As for you being my magical guardian,” the child continued harshly and loudly, “I want to see it in writing, and I want a definition as to what your role is in my life. I have never met you before today, and if you are any type of guardian, I should have known you all my life. Or, at the very least, you should have been the one to introduce me to the Wizarding World. So, I say you are not really doing your job,” he said, fed up with the way he was being side-lined.

“Mr. Potter, you will show the Headmaster some respect,” Professor McGonagall snapped.

“I have not _disrespected_ the Headmaster. I am simply stating the facts as I see them,” Harry stated with a look of resignation. He was starting to realize he would probably have to make good on his threats. He was gladder than ever that he got to talk to the students, hopefully they were writing as he was here being not listened to. Perhaps there were better adults out there who paid attention to their children.

“What can we do to make it so that you don’t feel as if you have to leave Hogwarts, Harry?” the Headmaster asked, serenely ignoring the by-play.

“You can either make the professors teach correctly, or you can replace them. In Charms, Herbology, and Transfigurations, we were taught the theory behind these arts. We were told what would happen if we did something wrong. We were given basic safety protocols. In Potions, we were told the directions were on the board and to get started. No instructions or directions on how to cut or stir. No precautions or safety. Nothing telling us what would happen if we didn’t take the cauldron off the heat before adding the quills. Just get started,” the child said, waving about his hands in agitation.

“If you would simply read the book then you would be able to follow the directions,” the Potions Master sneered, not about to let this upstart child tell him how to instruct his class.

“That is not teaching, and it is very dangerous, as someone in my first class proved. Besides, I read the first two chapters of my book; I can tell you that nothing is stated there either. I spent two galleons on that book; it should be more informative. The entire first chapter should have covered all of my points. But I figured that, perhaps, these things would be taught to us by a competent professor. I was wrong,” Harry said with nothing but contempt on his face, looking directly at Snape to make sure he knew how he felt about the potions class and its teacher.

“It is not my fault that you are too much of a dunderhead to follow simple instructions,” Snape scoffed, ignoring the fact that Harry had completed his potion without mishap.

Harry ignored him. “My parents left me money for my education, and I do know the value of a pound, or galleon as the case may be. And I know my money is not being well spent here. We have to buy our own equipment and books, as well as pay tuition. I would think that we should have at least competent professors,” he argued back, staring straight at Snape, making it very clear that he found the school lacking.

That caused the two teachers to glare, McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but Harry plowed on.

“I wonder if the Wizarding World has to live up to the standards of the Muggle World. I wonder if I should write to the Prime Minister and ask him to look that up. Because I can tell you, right now, that your school falls far below the standards of Muggle state schools—and those are free. We are paying for this, and that includes the meals, the upkeep for the castle and professors’ salaries. We should be getting a higher standard of education from here than the schools we wouldn’t have to pay for,” he stated, feeling that he needed to get his point across. He really didn’t want to leave Hogwarts, but was going to stand by his beliefs.

“I am afraid that I would have to decline your requests, Harry,” as if that had been the answer all along. “I am the Headmaster of this school, and it is up to me to set the standards. I feel that they are just fine, right where they are. I also will decline your request for information on magical guardians, as I feel you are too young to worry about that right now. Now, you should return to your common room and start on your homework, and do not forget that you have detention with Professor Snape this evening, as well as for the rest of the week,” Dumbledore said as he made shooing motions towards Harry.

Snape sneered at the boy, knowing that the Headmaster had won this round and put that brat in his place.

Harry stared at him with great disbelief. They really were not going to listen to a word he had said. Plus, they were going to try to make him attend a detention that he didn’t earn. Nothing was going to be done. Harry shook his head and left the office, then made his way to the common room. Maybe the students would listen to him. 


	2. Harry and the Adults Vent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to darrelldeam and alix33 for looking this over. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Fair warning this is only two chapters long.

When Harry reached the Gryffindor common room, Hermione ran to him and asked him, “Oh, Harry, did you get in too much trouble? You should not talk about the professors that way. You could be expelled,” she fretted as she worried her lip and rung her hands together. She didn’t want to lose her new friend; she had been having a hard time connecting to the girls in her dorm room.

Because Harry really didn’t know this girl all that well, he figured that he would try to make her understand, rather than blow up at her. “Hermione, were you not in the same class I was? If you wrote to your parents and told them that one of your professors was calling you names and not teaching you, what do you think they would say?” he asked softly, and then paused to hear her answer.

“I’m not sure,” she fibbed. She was still debating on whether to write them or not. She didn’t want to be pulled from the school. It had taken a lot to get her parents to agree to let her come, because she had been accepted into a prestigious school for gifted children. She had had to debate with them for weeks, and if they knew how she was treated now, well…

“And if you told them that you went to your Head of House and told her what happened in that class, then were told there was nothing they could do about it and that it was probably your fault anyway, what do you think they would say?” he asked, trying to keep a calm voice, still feeling the sting of that particular incident.

She shook her head and said, “I don’t know, but Harry…”

The messy-haired wizard held up his hand and continued a little more loudly, “If you wrote your parents and told them that on your first day in Hogwarts, you were told that you could meet your death by going down a corridor; do you really think that they wouldn’t complain or try to pull you from the school? I would hope that your parents care for you better than my guardians care for me—they don’t care whether I live or die, but I know most parents are concerned about their children.”

Now _this_ Hermione knew her parents would pull her for. She hung her head a bit and didn’t answer.

By this point, Harry had the entire common room listening and thinking about what he was saying. They gathered around the first year boy and some nodded their heads in agreement, while others protested.

Harry jumped on a chair to be heard and loudly stated, “Now, I just came from the Headmaster’s office and was basically told to sit down and shut up, because they’re not going to listen to me anyway. I was told that I would have to keep the points reduction, which I didn’t deserve, and that I would have to serve the unfair detention. Not only was I told that I cannot leave this school, but also that I should not expect my money to pay for a quality education. So, essentially, they are robbing you and your parents blind. Think about it, guys, especially you Muggleborns, would a teacher in a state school be allowed to teach this way? If a state school, which is free, has standards is it unreasonable that we should expect higher standards because we are paying?” he ranted, his hands waving in the air.

“That’s right,” Dean Thomas said loudly. “I know for a fact that Snape would be fired quickly.”

“Now, I am letting all of you know, right now, that I don’t give a damn about the point system. So, if these professors take points off me for standing up for my rights, then so be it.” He nodded to his dorm mate. “From this moment forward, I am protesting my captivity.” He folded his arms and glared.

That caused some gasps and objections, but Harry held up his hand and explained.

“I have morals, and I will defend my rights, no matter what. I also told the Headmaster that I’ll not be attending any of the detentions that I don’t deserve. Because I haven’t broken any rules, I’m not serving detention with Snape. I told that barmy old man that I will be sending weekly reports to the Board about what is going on in this school, and I encourage all of you to do the same. It’s up to you guys if you want to stand up for your rights or if you write to your parents, because I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be wasting my time or money on a poor quality education,” the angry young wizard stated firmly.

“But, Harry…” came the remonstrance from Hermione, which the boy ignored.

“I would like to know whether or not the Wizard World has to live by the same rules as the Muggle World. Judging from the lack of support I’ve received so far, I’m thinking no, but I am hoping that those of you that have parents working in the Ministry can give me a better answer. Also, I am being held prisoner here on my own dime.” At the confused looks of the pure-bloods, Harry clarified, “It is a Muggle term. Basically, what I’m saying is I’m paying to be forced to stay here against my will.” He looked at all the thoughtful faces and said, “I’m going to bed.”  He jumped off the chair and made for his dorm, leaving a bunch of confused and angry students in his wake.

The Headmaster really should have closed the owlery that night. Hundreds of owls cluttered the sky to get their missives off to unaware parents.

Word spread as gossip was wont to do in Hogwarts. By the end of the weekend, everyone knew what Harry had said in his common room. Letters were sent to parents and the Board. Parents sent letters to the Board and the Ministry. Owls flew all weekend long. In the Muggle World, phone calls were made.

During his day-long sit-in, Harry simply stayed in the Gryffindor tower and had one of the other students bring his meals. He did not do his homework. He did not serve his detention. He did not do anything but read Muggle books.

When the teachers came and tried to make him attend dinner, he asked if his demands had been met. When he was told no, he said he was staying there, and unless they want to add assault to his grievances they’d do well to leave him alone. They left.

Hermione tried to get him to do his homework, but he told her that he was protesting and would not be swayed “But Harry, what if you are expelled?” she asked in exasperation. She was getting tired of trying to make him see her way.

“Good. I have already made it clear that I don’t want to be here. I’m pretty sure that I’ve said that more than once. I don’t understand why you’re not hearing me,” Harry said calmly, continuing to read his book.

To Hermione, getting expelled was a fate worse than death. She couldn’t see why anyone would want to leave the school. And, while she did agree that Hogwarts could probably do better, she didn’t think it was her place to say. And she told Harry so.

Harry looked up from his book and said, “Um, Hermione, how are the adults supposed to know if we don’t tell them? They need that type of information to make an informed decision.” He tilted his head to the side, as if looking at a strange bug. How could she still not understand?

The bushy-haired girl just looked at him, her mouth shaped like an O. From the looks on the faces of some of the students in the common room, they hadn’t either.

Monday came and with it breakfast time, and Harry decided to see what the other Houses were saying, so he went to eat with Ron. There was a lot of support for him throughout the student body. Many young witches and wizards came up to the Boy Who Lived and told him that they wrote their families. Harry was proud of them.

About halfway through the meal, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and admitted what looked to be about twenty adult witches and wizards. Eight of them had blue robes on. Four of them had red robes on. The rest were in various styles and colors.

The Headmaster rose and greeted the guests, “Ah, Governors, Amelia, Minister and the rest of you ladies and gentlemen. What can I do for you today?” he asked as he folded his hands over his beard and gave them an inquiring look.

A pudgy man with a lime green suit and bowler hat stepped forward. “Albus, why have I been receiving owls all weekend complaining about the teachings at this school? The portrait in the Prime Minister’s office is telling me he has been receiving felly-tone calls from parents all weekend, as well. I am sure I don’t have to tell you that we don’t want the Muggle government poking their noses into our business.” He twisted his hat around in agitation. That was the last thing he wanted.

“Now, Cornelius…” the old man started, only to be interrupted.

“And I am sure that the good people behind me are wondering _what_ in Merlin’s name is going on,” the now named Cornelius stated with a glare. “I am getting complaints about abusive professors, authority figures not doing their jobs and students feeling that they are not receiving the education their parents are paying for. Some are saying that Harry Potter is being held prisoner here against his will. What in Merlin’s name is going on here? The school has only been open for a week.” He put his bowler firmly on his head.

Harry looked on, content; feeling like it was about time someone listened to him. It also answered a few of his questions, like the one about the Prime Minister. He figured some of the Muggleborn/-raised parents had been sending those in. He wondered how they knew that the Prime Minister knew about the Wizard World. They must have been older students, perhaps it is something they learned in History?

The Headmaster with his twinkly eyes and grandfatherly face looked at the crowd and stated, “Now, Cornelius, I am sure it is all a misunderstanding. I am sorry that your time has been wasted in coming down here. I can assure you that all is quite well within Hogwarts.” He made a grand gesture with his arms, as if to give the whole school a hug.

A stern looking woman with a monocle stepped past the sputtering Minister. “No, Headmaster, all is _not_ well. I have received no less than 100 letters stating that the students were told to stay away from the third floor corridor on the left side—if they did not want to face a gruesome death. I don’t know about some parents, but my niece goes here, and if there is something that will cause her death in this school, then, by Merlin, I will have your job. What the hell are you playing at, Albus?” she asked, looking like she would explode any minute.

“The students are perfectly safe,” Dumbledore assured her, making calming motions with his hands, but his eyes betrayed his worry. He never wanted anyone outside the school to know about those traps. They were there for one purpose only— to test Harry Potter. He was berating himself for not closing down the owlery.  Now all his plans might come crashing down on his head, it was like watching a train wreck.

“And, another thing,” the witch snapped as she removed a letter from her robes. “I also received a letter from my niece informing me that Professor Snape, in his first class, caused two girls to cry, because he yelled at them and called them names for not completing a potion correctly, which she also told me was not taught to them. Throwing directions on the board and telling the students to get started is not teaching. I am not paying you to keep that… _bully_ in this school. I don’t give a damn what he did for you during the war. If you want my niece to remain here, you will dismiss that Death Eater at once,” the woman stated in a very loud voice that carried across the hall, which caused many to gasp that they were being taught by one of You Know Who’s minions.

“Severus has my complete confidence, Amelia,” the old man stated, with a grandfather smile.

“Well he doesn’t have mine,” she retorted. Other adults nodding with her, but kept silent and let the officials handle this. Amelia then turned to the wizards in red robes. “Go to the third floor corridor on the left hand side and find out what is so dangerous that it would kill a student. Conclude what safety measures are in place. If it is something you can remove, do so. And find out if there is anything else up there that we should be worried about,” she ordered as she placed the letter back in her robes.

The men gave salute and left to do as they were ordered.

Before the Headmaster could protest, one of the men in blue robes came forward. “We, the Board of Governors, would also like to know what you are playing at, Headmaster. We have been sent ultimatums from parents all weekend, ordering us to either improve the school or they will also pull their students out. That is over 200 students, more than half of the student body. I don’t have to tell you that that would close Hogwarts for the first time ever. You had better have a damn good reason for all of this,” he finished, straightening his robes in an important manner.

“I am sure this will all blow over soon, Patrick,” the now sweating Headmaster said.

“We had to call an emergency meeting yesterday,” the man said, his eyes narrowed at the Headmaster, “and it was decided that all professors will be evaluated for the period of one month, and anyone not teaching correctly or victimizing their students will be dismissed at once. The point system and detentions will go through the Board for that month. If we find any professor showing favoritism toward any group of students, that professor will be suspended from giving any disciplinary action without the consideration of the student’s Head of House.” He looked at the teachers, and many of them shrunk back, while a few preened with hope.

That caused an excited murmur among the students.

“The students will all be interviewed,” the man continued, making a sweeping motion with his arms to encompass the whole student body, “with a Head of House present; about how they feel about the education they are receiving here. The monitoring of the professors will begin next week.” He looked to the teachers and evaluated how they were reacting.

“I am sure that that will not be necessary. I can assure you that all my professors have my deepest trust,” Dumbledore said as he raised his hands in a manner meant to placate. He knew for a fact that this was going to be bad.

“And, another thing,” Patrick plowed on, as if Dumbledore had never spoken. “If the Aurors find that you are keeping something in that hall that really _can_ kill a student, you will be dismissed,” he barked and pointed his finger at the old man. “This is a school, Headmaster Dumbledore, not your personal playground. This is not a place to play your games or keep your _pets_ ,” he stated with a loathsome look to Snape, who sneered back. “Parents pay tuition to make sure that their child is highly educated and safe. From the letters I have been receiving, this is not the case. I can tell you that we cannot afford to lose half of the students. In case you don’t remember, Headmaster, we are your bosses, and you answer to us. We are the ones who pay your salaries. It would do you well to remember that.”

Harry looked at the Head table. Some of the professors looked smug, while others looked very worried. Professors Snape and Quirrell took on pasty complexions, though both men had calculating looks in their eyes.

The rest of the adults there had not said anything, though they did look like they agreed with everything that had been said, judging by the bobbing of heads and the whispers. Harry figured that they must be parents of students.

The man who had spoken went up to the Head table and, turning to the students, cast the _Sonorus_ charm, and then said, “Students, I am Patrick Wallis, I am the Head of the Board of Governors. Now, when you have finished your breakfast, I would like all first and second years to remain seated. All other students may do as they please. Classes are canceled for this week,” that caused some cheering, “and I suggest that you take that time to do some studying,” and then some moaning.

The students immediately started whispering, only to be quieted when Mr. Wallis raised his hands.

“Tomorrow, we will talk to third and fourth years, and so on. If anyone would like to have their parents or guardians here while you are interviewed, you may have a professor help you get in contact with them. For those not able to use the Floo, you may send an owl and will be interviewed this Friday. If your parents are Muggles, we will provide travel for them. All Heads of Houses will also remain. The rest of the professors may find it helpful to reflect on their teaching methods. Thank you for your time, and please forgive us for interrupting your meal.”  He stepped down and went back to the other governors.

The parents, who had been quiet through all of this, went to join their children. They ate breakfast with them and then went home or stayed for the interviews, after getting the students’ stories. As they left they took their time to go and verbally slap either the Headmaster or Professor Snape. Harry watched on with a glint in his eyes and a bit of wistfulness, he wished he had parents that could stand up for him.

Breakfast finished, and all the students in third year and above left the hall. There were two Governors for each table. The Heads of Houses were told to pick a different House than their own.  Gryffindors got Professor Flitwick. Other teachers were assigned to collect the parents. Harry had to wait for a while, as they were going in alphabetical order.

While Harry was waiting, he saw one of the men in red robes re-enter the room and go to the woman with the monocle, then speak in to her ear. When the man was finished, she looked very livid, if the fierce look in her eyes and the redness of her face was any indication. Madam Bones went to Mr. Wallis and whispered in his ear. They, in turn, went up to Professor Dumbledore and cast a spell. Harry couldn’t hear what they were saying—all he could see was a lot of arms thrown in the air and the Headmaster trying to keep them calm— but things didn’t look good for the old man. He smirked.

Then it was his turn to be interviewed. The witch and the wizard introduced themselves as Madam Frostly and Mr. McCarthy. All three adults had parchment in front of them; Professor Flitwick seemed to have more than the other two. Well, he was Head of Ravenclaw.

Madam Frostly started the interview with, “Mr. Potter, we received your letter first. At first, to our shame, we did not really regard it as something we should take notice of. You are only a first year, albeit the Boy Who Lived, but still just a child.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she raised her hand, so he waited.

“Then we started receiving many other letters over the weekend. I would like to ask you, before we get started on the real questions, why did you write to us? It states in your letter that you went to your Head of House first, and she told you that there was nothing to be done. Why did you not accept her word? What made you pursue it further?” she rambled on. In all of her career on the Board, they had never received so many complaints. And it all started with this boy.

Harry sat back and thought about how best to word this. “In my Primary school, there was a new teacher who would scold the children harshly. When she made one of the girls cry in class, that girl went home and told her parents what had happened. The parents went to the principal and asked him what was going on. When the principal didn’t help, so they went to the PTA—Parent Teacher Association,” he clarified at their confused looks. “It is a Muggle group of parents that watch the school to make sure that it runs smoothly and that all of the children are treated equally.”

The three adults nodded, jotted down some notes and Madam Frostly waved him to continue.

“Anyway, when the chairperson of the PTA confronted the principal, they were blown off again. So, the PTA went to the Department of Education, who then looked into what was happening, which is a body much like the Board of Governors, only they are run by the government.”

That got a few more nods and Professor Flitwick was taking notes.

“That teacher was then put on probation. A week later, after her attitude didn’t change, she was fired. If a state school, that is, a school that is paid for by the government and is open to all students, requires fair treatment to all students, I felt that a school being paid for by the parents should demand the same. Now, I don’t have guardians that pay for this school, but I do and I’m not made of enough money to be throwing it away on such a poor establishment. So when my Head of House blew me off, I went directly to you, as I don’t believe there is a PTA for this school, though you might want to go to a Muggle school and check it out. I think it would benefit Hogwarts to have one,” Harry explained. Then he looked at the two blue robed people in front of him closely. “I would like to ask a few questions myself,” he added, folding his arms in a petulant manner.

“Since you are the one who started all of this, go ahead, but be warned we may not answer,” Frostly stated, tapping her finger on the table.

“Okay, I am new here, and even in this first week, we were told by the upper years that Professor Snape was not one to get on the bad side of. We were told that he yells and berates in his class. We were warned to make sure we read our books two chapters ahead. Now, my questions are, has anyone before me complained? Because I find it hard to believe in the ten or so years I am told he has worked here that no one has complained about him. And if there have been complaints, why is he still here? And let’s not even get started on the History of Magic professor. Why should we pay for a class that is basically nap time to all but a few? Or the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who stutters so badly that we can’t understand him and seems to be afraid of his own shadow? That is three professors out of six in our first year. And if there is a curse on the post of the professor teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, why has it not been removed? Or do you really have to have the threats of parents removing their children from Hogwarts to get you people to do your job? It is our tuition that pays your salaries. Sorry if you find my questions rude, but I’ve been brushed off and more or less told I'm being held prisoner in this school. So if you will excuse me, please. I have had a bad week, due in large part to the lack of support from the staff,” Harry ranted; he really _had_ had a bad week. He then took a sip of pumpkin juice, his throat dry after such a long speech.

The two Governors looked shocked at being spoken to in such a way by a child; their faces took on a completely affronted look. They did have to step back and consider the child’s questions though.

Of course they received complaints every year for the first month or so about at least two of the professors that Harry had named. However, they were told every year by the Headmaster that he would have words with Snape, and they always accepted that answer. With the first month of the school year being a busy time for the Board, they usually took the Headmaster’s word that it was being taken care of. Now they had to wonder where the complaints went after that first month. It would be another matter they would have to address.

They kept Binns, the History professor, on because they felt it was tradition. He had been teaching here for over fifty years, living and dead. But did they really want people pulling their children from school to keep up with tradition? Was the Board ready for change?

They had all heard rumors about there being a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but they had brushed it off as superstition. Because they left the hiring of the professors to the Headmaster, they had never really paid any attention to it.

They might want to think about forming a committee to take over the hiring of professors and to investigate complaints. The committee could also assign mandatory inspections if the complaints amounted to more than ten. They also might want to get the committee to look into the wards, as well. If they were letting something dangerous into the school or were keeping a curse from being noticed, it might just be time to find out why and to update them. Perhaps this… PTA the boy spoke about? Something else to look into.

Turning back to Harry, Madam Frostly said, “I am sorry to hear that you have had such a bad start at our school. We will, of course, take your words under advisement.”

“Thanks, that’s all I ask,” Harry said as he perked up.

“Now, for the interviews, here are the questions we are asking everyone.” She pulled a list of questions out and then proceeded to ask baseline questions like, “What do you think of your History Class?” and “How do you like your common room and dorm?” and “Do you feel that the professors or your Head of House are there for you when you need have a question answered?” just about everything that had been in Harry’s letter. Harry preened.

When he  was asked what he thought would be needed to improve the school. Harry gave the same answers that he had given Dumbledore.

After the interview, Harry went to his common room and played chess with Ron and talked to Neville.

“Hey Neville,” he asked as he moved his pawn, and Ron’s bishop captured it, “what is a magical guardian? Dumbledore says he’s mine, but I’ve never met him before yesterday.”

“Well, I am not completely sure what it is to the Muggleborn or –raised, ‘cause Gran is my legal and magical guardian. I do know they are responsible for what happens to you while you are in the Wizarding World, though,” the sandy-haired boy replied, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Oh, just what are they supposed to do for the child?” Harry asked as he watched another pawn get cremated.

“Well, say you need to get supplies in Diagon Alley. It is up to them to make sure you are safe and get everything you need. My Gran told me that the purpose or the responsibilities of guardians are to make sure you get to the healers to get all your shots and to keep records straight. Plus, help you get your yearly physical and all that. It’s because Muggles can’t find our hospitals, it is up to the magical guardians to do so. That is the whole reason for them to be assigned in the first place. Muggles can’t get around in the Wizarding World without escort, so the magical guardian is supposed to do what a Muggle legal guardian would do if they could,” the shy boy stated with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, and they make sure you have money,” stated Ron as he moved his knight into position to capture Harry’s rook. “My dad is our magical guardian; I think McGonagall is Hermione’s. So she would have been the one to go to her house and tell them about magic and take them to Diagon Alley. I’m not sure how they are assigned though,” he added, rubbing his nose.

Harry looked at them, trying not to convey his confusion. Hagrid, nice guy that he is, was the one to take him around, on Dumbledore’s orders. “Huh, thanks, guys. I wonder if there are any books on magical guardians in the library. Want to come with?” he asked both boys.

“What about our game?” Ron said, looking over the board.

Harry grabbed his king and set it before Ron’s queen. “You win,” he stated and then got up to head to the library.

“That’s not how you play,” Ron protested, but Harry walked on. So, the two boys got up to follow.

“If there aren’t any books there, I can ask my Gran if she knows where there might be some,” Neville said as they caught up.

“That’d be great,” the messy-haired boy enthused and they continued on their way. They searched for hours and only found a pamphlet, which pretty much said what the two wizard-raised had told him. Harry was very disappointed.

The next morning, Harry noticed that neither the Headmaster nor Professor Quirrell were at the Head Table, though the eight Governors were there and looking pretty grim. He let his eyes wander the table and noted that a lot of teachers looked worried, though a few looked smug.

Professor McGonagall stood and tapped her glass to get everyone’s attention. “Attention, everyone. I am sorry to say that Mr. Dumbledore is no longer Headmaster of Hogwarts. I am temporarily Headmistress until the Board decides otherwise. A letter has been sent home to your families to let them know. I would also like to say that the third floor is safe again. Professor Quirrell has also resigned for health reasons. We are hoping that by the end of the week we will have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for you. Thank you. You may return to your meals.” She sat back down and glared at one of the Board. She was on probation for her lack of understanding. The only reason she was temporary Head was because she was next in line; however, everything she did had to go through the Board. She was not a happy kitty.

Whispers flew around the room; everyone wondered what had happened.

The next potions class was just as nightmarish as the first, though it wasn’t Harry’s. He had only heard rumors when the man disappeared. It seemed that Professor Snape firmly believed that he was still in his rights to abuse the students. He was dissuaded of that right quick, when a disillusioned Board member appeared and told the class to leave.

By the end of the week, both Professor Snape and Binns were fired, and a Gringotts’ employee was hired to try and break the curse on the DADA class. Ron was heard saying he was glad it wasn’t his brother.

Dumbledore was hired on to take over the Potions class, as he was qualified to do so. Harry wasn’t sure at first what to think about it, but was informed that the man was no longer in control of anything but teaching. There was no way he was ever going to miss that slimy grease bat, though he was always leery around that twinkly-eyed old man. Harry had never been happier; he was finally learning potions, which was all he wanted in the first place.

History was canceled until a new professor could be found.

The Board looked outside the castle for a new Headmaster and hired the Londoner, Paul Signet, for the job, as well as Jessie Princeton as Deputy Headmistress. They found new Heads of Houses, leaving professors as just teachers so that they could focus on their classes.

The committee was formed to study the Muggle PTA and see if it could be adapted to Hogwarts. It would be tricky given the bias of many parents against Muggles. However, they were hopeful.

Because the school looked to be shaping up, Harry decided to stay on. He would give it until the end of the year, and then see if it was worth his money. Headmaster Signet said that there would be new classes next year, and he was looking forward to that. If not, he could look into other schools.

Because this Headmaster did not care where the students spent their summers, Harry decided that he would see if one of his friends could put him up. He still needed to find out what a magical guardian was. He was informed that Dumbledore was no longer his, and that he had a godfather in prison that was still on the books as his magical guardian.

But that is another story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I did warn you that this would only be two chapters. I might, might, come back to it. Remember it started as a one-shot. If anyone wants to take it and run with it, be my guest. Just shoot me a link. I really hope someone does, it has great potential. 
> 
> I’ve always felt that Snape got away with far too much shit and that Dumbledore had far too many responsibilities. I think Harry’s school years would have been much better without Snape. I hired Dumbledore back on as a professor because he needs to be in the castle, just not in charge. Quirrell/Voldemort left because the stone was returned to its owner, and he didn’t need to be there anymore. Neither the Aurors nor the Board knew he was possessed.


End file.
